


There Is A Light (That Never Goes Out)

by oddmonster



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Multi, Post-Star Trek: Into Darkness, Star Trek: Into Darkness Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 23:08:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7408837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddmonster/pseuds/oddmonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Settling in for the night aboard the Enterprise, things begin to return to normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Is A Light (That Never Goes Out)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [der_tanzer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/gifts).



The Engineering decks glow and hum and whir while huge amounts of power cascade through softly glowing tubes and into circuits that only occasionally spark and beep alarmingly.

“Stop it.” Chekov brushes Scotty’s hand away.

“Stop what?” Scotty’s hand returns to its mission.

“You know what I am asking you to stop, Mr. Scott. Ze warp core sustained a lot of damage. If we do not concentrate, we will be down here forewer.”

With a sigh, Scotty stops grabbing Chekov. It’s all fun and games until he becomes Mr. Scott again. That way madness lies, and also sleeping alone in his quarters, which is much less preferable to sleeping with Chekov in his quarters, or sleeping in Chekov’s quarters, or absolutely no sleeping at all for anyone in the vicinity of the Riseaway Court.

Chekov swears. 

Scotty yanks his hand away again just as Chekov raises his goggles and glares. “Be serious for a moment. I cannot concentrate when you are doing that to me!”

Scotty decides to chance his luck. “Doing what?” he asks with a leer. “This? Or sort of more of this type of thing?”

Chekov wiggles away from Scotty’s hands. He pulls the goggles off and wipes his face on his sleeve, swearing loudly in Russian. Scotty translates it after a couple seconds, then figures he’s pushed his luck as far as he dares. He brushes invisible space lint from his uniform tunic and tries to look professional. “--Because that’s what I think will straighten out these dilithium crystals in a jiffy. Adjusting for any veridium leak, of course. Now if that’s the case, we’d need something more like--” Another lunge thwarted at the last second.

“Mr. Scott.”

“A full recalibration of the whole containment system, was what I was going for there. But aye, you know I don’t really believe we’ll find any veridium leak down here. Not on this ship.” He considers the possibility seriously for the first time. “Well, not unless her mad bastard of a captain has buggered up the warp core in a way we don’t yet know about--”

“Mr. Scott,” Chekov says again.

“And if he has, well then it’d be easier to just--”

Whatever it would be easier to do with a veridium leak was lost as Chekov claims Scotty’s mouth with verve and efficiency. Scotty fights back a groan. Chekov’s kisses are wicked and amazing and brilliant. They make Scotty’s toes curl and his hair grow back and they make him forget all about transwarp beaming equations. Nothing can be better than Chekov’s kisses.

Then Chekov pulls Scotty close, fists clutching his tunic as he precisely aligns their bodies. Scotty revises his last thought. 

“Monty,” Chekov says softly, when they break for air. “We are newer going to finish down here if you do not concentrate. I cannot do zis wizout your help. I need your stubborn Scottish brain to focus on finishing this scan of the fuel conwerter.”

Most of Chekov was still unhelpfully pushing up against Scotty, and the way Chekov had said _converter_ is making everything worse. “Now that you mention it, I might be a bit distracted at the moment,” Scotty pants. “But I think I know of a solution. Why don’t we take a wee break, then--”

“In thirty minutes,” says Chekov, making the last word sound like tiny fish. “Our shift is ower, and we can go get some rest, yes?”

 _Conwerter_ , Scotty’s brain helpfully supplies. “Hang on: is that thirty full Earth minutes?”

Chekov shifts his hips a little against Scotty, pushing his own distraction against the inside of Scotty’s thigh. 

Scotty makes a startled, high-pitched noise, which in turn earns him another teasing, wicked kiss.

“Focus, _lyubimiy_ ,” Chekov says softly. His grin has turned amused and playful. “There will be plenty of time to do other sings once ze ship is back together again.”

“Other--”

“Sings, yes. But not until zen, okay?” Chekov finally pulls all the way away. 

Scotty grasps a nearby bank of sensors for balance. “Eh, exactly what kind of sings are we talking about?”

“Monty.” Chekov slips the goggles back on his head and turns back to the fuel converters laid bare next to them. He retrieves a slender wand from beside the console and firmly hands Scotty a PADD. “Only twelwe more to go.” 

“Yes, well… right.” Scotty tries to focus.

Chekov touches the wand to the middle of the glowing array and a shower of sudden sparks does wonders for Scotty’s concentration. Chekov bends over to get better access to the array, and his slight, pert arse juts out temptingly. Scotty has a brief but incredibly vivid flash of all the things he’s going to do with that arse in thirty more minutes.

Stifling a groan, Scotty forces his brain back to veridium leaks, and all the possible explosions they can cause. 

His willpower holds for a record ninety seconds.

“Monty!” This time Chekov’s protest is breathless laughter.

It’s just no use; there’s something about sneaking aboard an enemy ship and running about that gets Scotty all frisky, and Chekov finally drops the wand and lets himself be pulled into Scotty’s arms. Scotty tosses the goggles into a far corner and claims Chekov’s willing mouth. He needs Chekov more than phasers need electrostatic energy. There is nothing in any universe better than Chekov kissing him, making soft, needy murmurs against his lips. Nothing better than the feel of Chekov’s arse cupped in his hands; a quick squeeze and Chekov arches against Scotty with a soft cry. Chekov bends his head to the side and that’s Scotty’s cue to mouth and lick his way up under his ears. He can feel the young navigator grin and wriggle with every movement of tongue and lips. It completes a circuit in Scotty that makes everything else irrelevant.

“ _Lyubimiy_ ,” Chekov whispers softly, placing his palm alongside Scotty’s jaw. His eyes are at once knowing and excited, and Scotty vows then and there that the two of them will never be parted again. 

Then he sets about showing the lad a thing or two about explosions.

***

Bones flips off his communicator and tosses it into a slot next to the bed. “They’re at it again.”

Already in bed, a shirtless Kirk fails to look up from his PADD. He looks remarkably hearty and calm and entirely not dead. “Who?”

“Who do you think? Commander Scott and young Chekov, that’s who.”

“Riseaway Court?” Kirk frowns at a report on new reporting regulations.

“Engineering. A young ensign from the Sirenia galaxy walked in on them on the concourse on Level 12 and fainted. Hit her head on the way down.”

At this, Kirk looks up. “Sirenia. Isn’t that that galaxy where--”

“Reproduction is accomplished through a series of sonic signals, yeah. Apparently Ensign Aak had no idea it was different for humans.” Bones pulls his uniform tunic over his head and neatly folds it before tucking it next to his communicator on the shelf. He removes his trousers and folds them likewise before turning and pulling the sheet down. “Then again, Ensign Aak also fainted watching Sulu eat noodles in the mess hall. That time she managed to cover herself in boiling tea.”

“Ouch,” Kirk says mildly, his eyes now firmly on Bones and Bones’ attempts to get comfortable. “To be fair, though, Sulu and noodles has that effect on a majority of the crew.”

“Well we should either ban it, or him, or possibly just the combination of the two or we’ll run out of nanopores before we hit the next meteor field.” 

Kirk grins, rolling up on one elbow to stare lovingly at his mostly naked and very grouchy husband. “What, you wanna make poor Sulu eat his lunch all by himself? You gotta admit, Bones, he does do something in the slurping. It’s just so…” He shrugs. “Lippy.”

“Lippy?” Bones, halfway in bed, narrows his eyes. “What is it with you and Sulu? I swear every time you look at that kid--”

“Bones.”

“I can tell you’re thinking about it. Again!”

Kirk makes a strangled noise. “Bones!”

“Why don’t you just do it and get it over with-- or maybe you already have and--”

Kirk rolls his eyes, then leans over and pounces on his maddening and incredibly attractive husband. His affections are fierce and breathless and leave no room for argument. When he’s been with girls at the Academy, he’s taken things slow, liking to leave a lasting impression. But something about Bones drives him completely bananas, and control and caution go right out the nearest airlock. The barest of touches turns Kirk into a madman. He can’t help it. He’s never met anyone who makes him so crazy.

He’s never met anyone who makes him feel so loved. 

Sometime later, Kirk rolls back over onto his side of the bed, sweaty and breathless and half-laughing with joy. “Fuck,” he manages after a time. 

Next to him, Bones can’t even manage to roll over. “Tell me about it,” he says in a voice Kirk recognizes as spectacularly and thoroughly satisfied.

Kirk’s laughter deepens as he kicks off the sheets tangled around his legs. He sighs contentedly. “Remind me to tell Scotty to be more careful around the warp core. The Riseaway Court’s one thing, but Engineering? Come on. That’s just unprofessional.”

“Oh look who’s talking,” Bones murmurs, but there’s no anger in it. He snorts derisively before managing to drag himself over to curl up against Kirk’s back. Kirk turns, and takes Bones in his arms, pulling him close and kissing the top of his head softly. “Computer, lights out.” 

The lights dim softly, then wink out, leaving their quarters in near-darkness. One wall of the cabin is taken up by a wide window onto the deep vastness of space, rushing past them in utter silence. The light from a far-away sun washes weakly over the top of the ship, sparing barely a glance at their portal before darkness returns. Bones settles in closer, relaxing fully in Kirk’s embrace.

Kirk frowns at the ceiling, wide awake still. Despite the utterly relaxed state of his body, sleep is still slow in coming. After a few minutes, he asks, “Do you think she’s forgiven him yet?”

The only answer from Bones is a sharp snore.

***

“I take this to mean that my behavior… has been forgiven?”

Uhura folds her arms across her chest. 

She’s invited Spock to her quarters for several reasons. One, because she truly has (basically) forgiven him. Two, because the tension between them is affecting her ability to do her job. And three, because she has finally admitted to herself that her remaining mad is having absolutely no effect on him, while at the same time making her miserable. 

That said, how to take him back is another thing entirely.

“If my appearance here is unwelcome, then I apologize,” Spock says. 

“Your appearance is always welcome, Commander.” She hates him and herself in equal measures. 

He tilts his head questioningly. “I am not sure of the truth value of that statement. I believe I have detected a certain… coldness in our interactions. Yet I assure you that I have forgiven you entirely for your actions--”

“For my actions?” Uhura throws her hands in the air and turns on her heel, stalking away.

“You beamed down onto a moving terrestrial craft and interrupted a Starfleet officer in the commission of his duty. Furthermore--”

Uhura laughs wildly. “The commission of his duty? Said officer was in the commission of getting himself killed by a fugitive wanted in multiple galaxies! A fugitive who had committed treason.” Spock tries to continue so Uhura holds up an imperious finger. “Please remember that I am also a Starfleet officer. And I saved your ass.”

Spock’s expression is implacable. “I am unlikely to forget.”

“That I’m a Starfleet officer or that I saved you?”

He whispers. “Both.”

She steps in close and takes his face in her hands. It wasn’t the original plan but nothing about this ever was. “I was so scared for you,” she whispers back, peppering his face with light kisses. 

“I… appreciate the assistance.” He holds her gaze. 

“No,” she says softly. “I was so scared that you weren’t going to stop… that something had… changed.” She can’t stop kissing him. She’s not even trying at this point. 

“Nyota,” he whispers raggedly. Spock’s eyes shine with unshed tears, his half-human side raw and open to her. In that moment she feels her heart drops its fist and take him back unreservedly.

“Spock,” she says softly.

He brings his hand to her face and she exults in his touch, so innately soothed by the feel of his fingertips ghosting gently down her temples, over her cheekbone and along her jaw, until he gently thumbs her lower lip. 

They move together gently, and sink into the pillows gracefully, and with gratitude.

 

***

Sulu leans against the cushion at his back and stares out through the wide portal before him, at the whole, wide universe.

All his friends are paired up and safely in love in their respective quarters, but love’s not why he joined Starfleet. He joined Starfleet for this feeling right here: to explore the infinite smallness that is him against the unimaginable immensity of the universe -- of all universes. 

He feels love with his hand on the Enterprise’s throttle, her engines thrumming against his palm; he feels it in the punch of warp, when it takes him in its embrace and pushes him forward through space no one’s ever seen before. They’re all explorers together, but he’s the one leading the charge. He’s the one who pulls them out of trouble, looking three steps ahead to the places where a galaxy-class starship can run and hide and swoop and dart.

In a way, it’s a lot like fencing.

From the outside, fencing looks a lot like competitive, timed stabbing. But once you begin to practice, you learn that it’s chess with epees. You can’t win on one move but by following a pattern, by watching x moves ahead; the value of x being determined by a set of moves and circumstances unique to the opponent. It’s always the same and always different.

Sulu tilts his head back and wills the Enterprise to disappear from around him; he sees himself as he is, an infinitesimal speck traveling faster than the speed of light through a vastness that only the most unique minds can comprehend. Smiling slightly, Sulu closes his eyes. Scotty’s been all that Chekov can talk about since he arrived back on the ship. Mr. Scott this, Mr. Scott that. Mainly because nothing short of a direct order can keep Scotty off the bridge when Chekov’s at the conn. The two of them are brilliant, impossible and ridiculously perfect for each other. 

It’s good -- better than good, to see his friends in love. Love will find him someday, Sulu’s convinced, but for now, he’s got bigger things on his mind. 

The universe spreads out tantalizingly beyond his view, a series of soft sparks against the ever-expanding darkness.


End file.
